⋆˚࿔the Pureblood Wi⸸ch⛧☾︎

the weighted blanket was a purchase well worth it, especially when your favorite weight on top of you gets pulled miles away every few weeks. so this is a middleground destressor. something about being around people for eight hours a day, five days a week, grips your heart and fills your body with compressed air like a sad dollar store balloon. it's not until you've had it physically pressed out of you that you can feel truly relaxed after a workday.

the front door clicks open after a while, heavy boots and a deep sigh like clockwork notifying you that your boyfriend had finally been freed from his own job. you can't bring yourself to move, too comfortable and too wound tight with stress to be the first to reach for him. after some shuffling around, keys on the counter, jacket on the hook next to the door, you feel his presence behind you. another sigh and the rustle against the couch cushions as he kneels in front of the couch. a hand comes to rest on your head, stroking over your hair. you let out a small grunt to let him know you're not asleep, and his palm slides down to rest on your covered shoulder.

"stressful day?"

"yeah. i'm exhausted." you mumble. after a moment you manage to gain the motivation to roll over and look at leon. he's got his chin rested on the edge of the cushion as he studies you. eyes all soft like you're the first comfort he's seen all day. which is true, to him.

"i hope the blanket is doing its job?" he hums and tucks it underneath your chin. you're effectively burrito-ed in warmth and weight that has your eyes heavy, but torturously, not relaxed enough for sleep. "y'know, since it took mine."

"my bitter man," you give him your first real smile of the day. not a forced mask to make people feel better. not politeness. genuine amusement and affection for your favorite blonde-headed nuisance. "you still have that job. this is just the temp when you're out of the office."

"it better be," he hums, reaching up to brush a thumb over your cheek. "i don't wanna file for unemployment. not sure i'm built for holding anyone but you."

corny.

"i sure hope so. i was never good at sharing."

"oh, i'm aware. you almost bit my head off when i had one of your fries last night."

"and i'd do it again."

"i know," he chuckles. "now get this fraud out of the way. i'm clocking in." he tugs the blanket off you with a grunt, and you whine a little at the cold air creeping across your bare legs. leon's hand soothes it, humming as he crawls onto you with gentle touches. now on your back, your chest is the perfect pillow for him to nestle into. his hips rest in the space just below where your legs part to make way for your new blanket, complete with body warmth and a heart thrumming just for you.

"this is my therapy, too, y'know," he practically moans into the softness of your chest, placing a kiss just over your heart. "missed you today." he saw you this morning. kissed you goodbye on his way out the door, at the crack of dawn to get his workout in at the gym beforehand. but it's still true.

"i missed you, too, sweetheart," you sigh and squeeze his shoulders, before trailing your nails down the length of his spine. a deep groan rumbles from him that shakes you to your core in a way you never get tired of. a mass of muscle practically whining and unfolding for you. "how was work?" leon lets out a grunt. his way of saying nothing to report, don't wanna talk about it.

after a moment, he begins his own assault of his love language. checking on you.

"you eat yet, baby?" you mumble a no and he lifts his head to look at you. "i'll make you something, hm? think about what you want," he presses himself up enough to bring his face to yours. his forehead kisses your own before he lets his lips do the same. it's a lingering, chaste affection, followed by an additional peck before he settles back down in your arms. "in a while, though. my session's not up yet."

You look at them and then glance at the bags you were holding. “Oh… yeah, I see where you’re coming from.” your cheeks flush a subtle pink. “But I don’t think this is overboard— he deserves it anyway.”

She groans even louder this time, and rolls her eyes so far back you fear they might get stuck like that. “Why??”

“Because—” you start, but she’s quick to interrupt you.

“And don’t tell me it’s ‘cause you love him or whatever sappy bullshit you’re about to tell me. I ate really good food earlier and I don’t feel like puking it all because of your lovey-doviness.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t throw up.” You let out a small huff and then chuckle. “I just… I suck at showing him how I feel.”

At your words, she grows quiet and cools down from her previous outburst.

“So… I’m showing him I care the only way I know how.”

A beat of silence passes as she stares at you.

“Gonna puke.” she makes a gagging motion, completely ruining your little moment.

You burst out laughing and shake your head, and the two of you proceed to take the metro back to school.

When the two of you finally return, it’s quite late in the evening, and the sun starts setting. 

For your surprise, you had decided to place the gifts in his room. That way he’d walk in, ask you what was up, you’d explain it to him, and everyone’s happy and in love!! At least that’s how you hoped it would work out. 

On your way back to the dorms, you notice Yuji training with Fushiguro on the trackfield.  You immediately rush to his room, not giving them a second glance. You were a woman on a mission afterall.

Perfect, you thought. Now you had time to set the surprise. And so you did. 

You arranged the various gifts in a small basket you had also bought for the occasion. Leaving the room, you carefully close it behind you.

“There you are.” 

You jump and let out a shriek, as you turn to face him. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” he smiles, drying his hair with a towel. 

He was wearing a fresh change of clothes. Black sweats and the orange hoodie you bought him for his birthday.

“Where were you today? I texted but you never answered.” he steps closer.

“Oh… I went out to the city with Nobara.” you pull your phone out of your pocket and look for any notifications from him. And sure enough, there was his message. A simple “where did u go? didnt get to see u this morning.”

You look back up at him. “I didn’t have any signal the entire day— sorry.” you say dismissively, without wanting to. It just came out that way. Always did. 

He simply hums in response, and you can tell he isn’t really convinced. The thought of him distrusting you is almost enough to shatter your heart in pieces, but you push down the gut wrenching feeling. 

This was already not going how you planned it to.

“So… what were you doing in my room?” he lets the towel fall on his shoulders and points at the wooden door you’ve just closed.

His voice snaps you out of your mental spiral. “I was just— you know… I–” you stutter like an idiot, the pit in your stomach and the anxiety making you forget your words. “You know what, why don’t you just go in?” you sigh, giving up, and step aside to let him open the door.

He looks at you with a confused expression. The one that makes you want to squish his cheeks and kiss him until he can’t breathe. Which you’ve never done… Why? Because you were too scared to be so vulnerable and close with someone. Because you just haven’t gotten around to it. That’s all.

He slowly turns back to the door, and opens it. Entering the threshold of his room, he takes a step forward.

You follow behind him and close the door.

At the sight of the gift basket on his bed, he whips his head back around to face you. “What’s all this?” he asks you with wide eyes.

Your face turns red and you look away, unable to meet his eyes. “Human Earthworm merch… Thought you might like it.”

“You serious?”

You only nod. Silence settles between the two of you.

“Is this why you were out the whole day with Kugisaki?”

“Yeah… took longer than I expected. Human Earthworm stuff isn’t as easy to find as I—”

He cuts your rambling short. “Y/N.”

You’re snapped out of it as you stare up at him. “... yes?”

“I… I thought you were mad at me— or breaking up with me or something.”

Your eyes shoot wide open. “What? Why?”

His hand comes up behind his head to scratch his nape. “I don’t know I just… you’ve been distant lately, and with you not responding to my texts or bothering to tell me when you leave for the day I thought—” he lets out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know.”

You frown, and your lips tilt downwards into a pout, as if you had stumbled upon an abandoned puppy in an alley. 

“Yuji I would never,” you state honestly, as you step closer. 

“I know I know, I was just being stupid.” he looks away, in an attempt to dismiss the issue and make himself smaller.

“No, you weren’t. Don’t say that about yourself.” He slowly lifts his eyes to look at you. “You’re not entirely wrong you know— I’m not good at… showing you how I feel, or whatever. I’m sorry.” 

You make eye contact with him and push through, despite how nervous you are. “That’s why I dragged Nobara out with me today to buy you gifts. I wanted to make up for being a bad girlfriend.” you laugh to try and alleviate the atmosphere, but it comes out weak.

You watch him as he steps closer to you. His firm arms instantly wrap around you, palms warm and steady against your back as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “You’re not a bad girlfriend.” he mutters against your now flushed skin. “Sure… you’re not that touchy. And you don’t always say how you feel out loud, but that never bothered me.”

Your hands hesitantly come up to hug him back. But once you make contact with him, your hands fist against his soft hoodie and you nuzzle closer to him. “... really?”

“Really.” He nods against your skin. “If it did… I never would’ve asked you out.”

His words soothe the ache that’s been deeply nestled in your gut. 

“I like you the way you are, believe it or not.” he laughs briefly.

“... Thank you.” Your hands slide up tentatively to play with his hair. “And I’ll make sure to tell you next time when I’m out for the day.”

“... just take me with you.” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. Your boyfriend goes slightly limp against you, holding you tighter, and then presses a quick kiss to your pulse.

You stumble a bit from how flustered you are— and also because he was considerably heavy. “Okay, okay, noted…” you caress his back. “Why don’t you go check out what I got you now?”

“They can wait. I didn’t see you all day today.” His hands shift to grab at the sides of your waist, and he hoists you up. You immediately wrap your legs around his hips in an attempt to steady yourself, and your hands fly to land on his shoulders. He looks up at you with wide eyes, his dimples visible from his toothy grin.

Not expecting the sudden manhandling, you gasp. “Yuji what're you—!”

He lets you slide down just enough to press his forehead to your own. “I’ve got the best girlfriend ever.”

You weren’t even aware it was possible, but the blush present on your face spreads to your ears and neck too. You only sigh against him however, closing your eyes in the process. “You’re too easy if getting you merch of your favourite movie is the key to your heart,”

He chuckles heartily. “It’s not the merch, it’s you.” he shakes his head, the gesture ruffling the front of his hair slightly. “I love you,” he says softer, quieter.

Your eyes open again and you stare at him dumbfounded. Did he just say he loved you? 

You were both eagerly awaiting and dreading this moment. You still hadn’t prepared mentally enough to be ready to say the words back. And now he was just staring, no doubt expecting them from you. At least that’s what you thought.

“You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted to tell you how I feel.” His smile softens.

“... I feel the same.” you whisper. 

Sure, it probably wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it’s all you could muster. And if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear, it definitely didn’t look like it from the way he was gazing up at you right now: as if you had hung up the moon for him.

“Just— go check out what I got you. Tell me what you like and what you want me to return…” you clear your throat and look away, as if to shake off his gaze. But it doesn’t work. He just follows your features with his eyes, the same soft smile present on his face. 

Carefully setting you back down, he keeps a hand wrapped around yours. “Are you crazy? I’m not returning any of it.” he leans down to kiss your cheek. 

“Just go look!” you almost choke on your words, still flustered. You give Yuji a light push towards his bed, and he lets himself be pushed around as he laughs. 

“Okay, okay! I’ll look!”

Yuji masterlist a/n: I already know this is gonna flop bc Yuji is srsly underrated but its ok, im doing this for the 3 Yuji fans out there!! anyway i love him ur honour <3 as always reblogs, likes, and comments are all appreciated!!

It's just the two of you up here — no supervillains to traumatize him, no stuck-up professors to traumatize you — just two bodies soaking up the weather of the city you grew up in.

Peter’s still in his suit, the practical turtleneck bobbing with his Adam’s apple as he swallows, his eyes curved into crescent moons as he peers at you. His irises are the color of roasted coffee — flecks of warm honey highlighted under the setting sun, something akin to love with a hazy warmth in his gaze.

(It's unfair, you think, for someone to look so beautiful.)

"Whatever." You huff, rolling your eyes as the two of you slump back onto your shoulder blades, a satisfied grin playing on his face.

“Hah.”

"Okay, what is it then?" You flop back around immediately, nudging against his shoulder. "Your favorite color?"

For a moment, he doesn't answer.

Between him and the spare leaf he twiddles with his fingers, he's never had one.

Red and blue are Spider-Man's colors, but he'd be lying if he called them his favorite. Green is nice, pink is cute for sure, orange was the color of his favorite Pokémon; his childhood was about as normal as most were, save for the radioactive spider that led him to becoming a superhero.

…

Okay, so now that he’s thinking about it, it makes sense that he’s maybe never gotten the chance to think about one.

It’s certainly possible that he had one growing up, but after becoming Spider-Man, his mind became too busy with equations and his body occupied with dodging alien attacks outside his window. Peter’s never had time to care about something as silly as a favorite color, but—

You were smiling when you guessed yellow.

Your eyes glazed with an excited shine he'd only seen in his dreams, your lips parting to show a smile he's sure he'll try to get you to recreate for the rest of his life — does yellow fit him that much? What's your reasoning?

Even now, as you take small glances at him, your gaze is filled with that lovestruck nosiness that he’s loved since high school (although if anyone's stricken, it's him). He doesn’t mind yellow being his favorite color if you can stay like this forever.

"You were right." He resigns, a nonchalant grin playing on his face, his eyes closed to soak in the last moments of sunshine, “Yellow's the best."

The next few moments are silent, other than a soft breeze that brushes through his bangs. The beginnings of the night chill nips at the bare bit of skin under his neck; he peeks an eye open, turning slightly to look at you and—

Ah.

Your lips are happily curved upwards, unable to hide your giddiness from him.

Before he can even comprehend what's going on, your arms push your body off the grass, trapping his back to the Earth, your face mere inches away from his.

“You’re not lying, right? You’re telling the truth?”

Peter gazes up at you through half-lidded eyes, that astounding color of yellow shining against your silhouette. There’s a bit in your eyes, he can almost imagine, fire shining against your iris that he wants to stay lost in forever.

(Was the sun always this pretty? Or is it just you?)

“… Yeah, it’s cute.” He smiles simply, “I like it a lot.”

His gloved hand pulls you down towards him, pressing your chest to his as he presses small kisses against your skin.

“Peter—” You whine, pulling your face away as the kisses travel down your neck (he laughs as he pulls your head down again, hugging your body close), “Peter, you’re being annoying.”

“Aww, you like me anyways.”

He can feel your heat against his shoulder, behind your mumble, “Ugh, I guess.”

“Why yellow?” His grin is boyish as his hands palm at your hips, “Why'd you think of yellow for me?”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you bury your face into his clavicle, nose against nylon and muscle, “It's ‘cause …” The words that leave your lips get lost, the fabric of his shirt trapping them from his ears.

“Sorry?”

“I said—” your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, tilting your head towards his neck, “— It’s because you’re bright. Whenever I see you, you just … shine. Like the sun.”

Every New Yorker could attribute Spider-Man to the sun. It's the warmth he brings, the kindness he shows to the little man — everything Spider-Man does can associate him with the brightness of New York City.

No one knows Peter Parker, though. Certainly not like you know him. No one else knows the words that fuss over you every time you get hurt, fingers that painstakingly bandage your knees every time you fall on the court, the mind that stays up with you to help you study even after exhaustion creeps up his throat.

No one knows that Peter loves harder than anyone you’ve ever known, evident in chapped lips and small lulls of domesticity in the morning, evident in low moans and warm hands at night.

(No one knows his favorite color, except you.

You've never felt more special.)

“Will you kiss me?”

The words come out more vulnerable than you expect; sap dripped from your tongue, the feeling of wanting to stay like this pushed through your tongue.

Peter obliges, though — his hand tilts your chin towards him, the other at your scalp, pulling you close enough to feel his breath steady on your skin. His lips find yours immediately, soft against the wind that brushes against your body, warm fingers ghosting your neck contrasted with the cool stone at your palms.

You’re in love with him. God, you love him, the boy that rivals the sun — the boy whose natural state is to give more than he takes, and still accepts you anyways.

You pull away slowly as the sun falls further, the heat on your cheeks matching the dusty pink on his. The apartment lights across the street are lighting up, deep reds and violets lined against the horizon, and still, time feels far away from you. Peter looks a little lost when he looks at you, his head in some faraway place in his mind.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, your pointer finger tracing his cheek.

He hums, a carefree smile on his face as he stares with that same lovesick look, as if his love could ever make you sick.

“Let’s just lay here for a while.” He closes his eyes, relaxing fully, “Until it gets dark.”

(Yeah, if he’s being totally honest, he doesn’t give a shit about the color yellow.

It may not be his favorite color, but you’re certainly his favorite person.)

period comfort | clark kent

word count: 429

tags: fem!reader, pre period discomfort, comfort from clark, fluff

Clark's eyes are looking over you so intensely, like he should be able to just scan your body and know it all. He's concerned. Always worried for you, always being sure that you are safe. Which, you are, but you've been off all day.

Maybe you're getting sick? He offers, "I could call Ma and see if she'll make her chicken noodle soup?"

Your eyes are shut as you lay on the couch, hand massaging your stomach beneath the quilt Clark covered you with twenty minutes ago. He's sweet, so very sweet… but so very far off. He's just trying his best to figure it out. To find the problem so he can give the solution, he's particularly good at that, you know.

"No, no," you shake your head and look up at him. He is sitting on the edge of the couch by your side. "It's just my period. I'll be getting it soon, it's really messing with me. I'll be fine."

You can visibly see Clark's shoulders relax. Then he scoots a little closer, putting his hand over yours on your stomach to help you massage. "Okay. What can I do to help?"

His tenderness could make you cry right here and now. The softness in his eyes, and the delicate touch of his hand on yours. Trying so hard to help you, always.

It would have been so easy to shut yourself out from the world as your body betrays you. Your mind had already been entering that fog, too. Where everything seems much more dramatic than it is, and everything feels like something you've done wrong. But then… here's Clark.

"I dunno, I just had a rough day." Everything threatened to make you cry. You try to joke, "I just want to shrivel up and waste away."

Clark chuckles, the backs of his fingers soothing your cheek. "I'll go grab your heating pad, you just stay nice and cozy. Pick out whatever movie you wanna watch, I'll go get all your favorite snacks, and we'll just take the rest of the night easy. How's that sound?"

You lean into his touch, to which his hand responds by cupping your cheek. You mutter, "That sounds perfect."

He gives a nod, leaning down and covering your face with kisses before giving his signature 'goodbye' kiss. As he goes to get the heating pad he lists off all your favorite snacks to be sure he won't forget even one. Which, he doesn't. He knows every detail this is to know about you, even the smallest ones like that.

period comfort | kara zor-el

word count: 553

tags: fem!reader, reader cries a little from a bad day, comfort

You had been a grump from the moment you woke up, you knew it. Everything felt like an annoyance. You felt like you were in the way the entire day, even when standing in an empty room. But, vice versa, it also felt like everyone else was in your way, even when they were really just offering a helping hand. You were civil, though you didn't want to be.

Now that you're home, you have a little more of a right to be disagreeable. You couldn't be, though. Not with Kara. You didn't want to be anymore, either. Not with the way she was immediately so welcoming.

You stepped into your apartment and Kara was kissing you with a 'I missed you' whispered into your hair. She held your hand and pulled you deeper into the apartment through your grumbled complaints about your day. She listens.

People view Kara as someone incapable of being soft. That's the only thing you ever knew her as. It's why there's no surprise in seeing that she has an entire stage set in your living room. A nest of blankets fluffed over the couch, every sort of candy you could imagine scattered across the coffee table, and both of your guys' favorite ice creams sat in the center of it.

Your grumbling came to a stop at the sight. You look at her with a small smile, squeezing her hand. "What is this?"

Kara is rolling her bottom lip between her teeth the way she does anytime she is trying to observe your reactions. These things still make her nervous, wondering if she's done it all right. But a smile spreads when she sees that your grumpy facade broke.

"This morning seemed like a rough start for you, then those messages you sent from work seemed like the day didn't really improve?" Her head tilts, gesturing to the living room but keeping her eyes on you. "I just wanted to make your afternoon easy for you."

She saw it. She wasn't even around you for longer than an hour or two today, but she read you. Your bad mood was obvious, but Kara read exactly what you needed, and that is what is getting you.

Kara's eyes look concerned suddenly, her hand coming up to swipe your cheek clean of a tear that just let itself fall. "Oh, baby. Don't cry, why are you crying? That bad of a day? Is this too much? I should've asked first."

Frantically shaking your head, you press your hand over hers to keep it on your cheek. "No, it's perfect."

You didn't know that all you needed was this. Kara. Her knowing you, taking care of you.

She nods a little, and you can see the wheels turning in her head as she tries to reassure herself. "You're sure? If you just want some alone time that's okay too."

"No, no." Your hand grips on the fabric of her shirt as you step closer to her. "You read me just right. I want to be held by my totally gorgeous, considerate girlfriend while we eat ice cream and exist outside of the world for the night."

Kara chuckles, kissing the last tear that had slipped out before kissing your lips and pressing your foreheads together. "Sounds like the perfect night."